Distance
by A Wish On the Moon
Summary: Sometimes people wear personalities in order to veil their insecurities. At other times, they are more fragile than glass. But with the passage of time, she can't help but think that her loyalty will mean nothing in the end. Digimon Tamers. Introspection. 739 words.


**Disclaimer**: I lay no claim to any licensed characters or intellectual properties that were used in the making of this work.

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"— if you would only listen, dammit! —"

_She wasn't always like this,_ she thinks, watching the vehement exchange between mother and daughter escalate. It never wove down, however, as she had long-since learned. Initially, the streams of insults and accusations would always bounce back and forth, likened to the exchange of blows in battle within her mind. The tension would then rise to its peak, slamming to the ground and shattering into fine powder with the slamming of the door.

And then there was silence, agonizingly clear and fragile.

Sighing softly, the witness closed her eyes in defeat. She pushed herself off of the tree trunk, the one the land's owner, or more specifically her daughter, was often so fond of after these arguments.

The creature then jumps up, hidden from view within the foliage, seeming to have dissipated into the sea of verdure. She has not long to wait, as the girl comes storming out of her dojo home, angry at the world and hating herself for it.

By the time the girl has reached the tree, her only companion is behind her, gloved arms crossed and wise eyes less frigid, warmer, understanding.

The girl is allowed to cry, she knows, but the tears that threaten to fall are forced back in the face of others' scrutiny. And though she has nothing to fear from the only one she can trust, she refuses to show weakness.

But the tears fall anyway, and she clenches her fists and bites her bottom lip, eyes shut tight against the onslaught of inexplicable loneliness and pain and weakness.

"—I, I…I, Renam—"

"It is good to be a fighter in battle, where weakness is death."

And the child knows those words like the back of her fisted hand, her inner mantra for surviving life as a girl in a male-dominated society, seen as weak by the boys and easy prey; for surviving against the changes she has had to go through, never part of the crowd and never truly a part of her family; for surviving alone for so long with only a monster as her companion — not even a real creature, by society's standards.

"But after the battle is over and won, it is alright to shed tears. It is okay to cry, Rika."

At this, the girl shifts her gaze slightly, moving her head to face the Shinto Priestess and Fighter that is the yellow fox.

She does not believe those words, for they can't be true. Her life's philosophy is to fight hard, fight and fight and fight and survive until life is ripped away from your grasp, and then to continue fighting even after everything has crumbled to ash. They can't be true, they can't, they can't, _they can't—_

And yet there is a world-weary understanding in those breath-taking blue eyes, pretty and beautiful and true and real.

And yet—

"Ruki, it is okay."

She turns fully then, flinging her small frame against the beast, clutching at soft fur, white and pure, as her shoulders shake. She tries to keep the tears inside, but when the wise kitsune brings her hands to rest on the girl's head and back, the latter rubbing soothing circles into her back, they flow freely. Her trembling breaks out into full-blown sobs, and she wails and cries and screams _whywhywhy_, knowing her companion can do nothing but comfort her.

Her shrieks are muffled, she knows, quiet in the raging silence, and so she allows herself this weakness, if only because she can't stop.

Renamon, digital and alive and false and real, leaves her be, understanding the pain of solitude and the need for distance.

By the time the sobbing has ceased, Rika has fallen asleep, her hands fisted into her fur and her head buried in her chest. A melancholy look comes over her eyes, and she awkwardly hugs the girl back, so fragile and soft and sad, despite her fierce and icy façade.

It's funny, she muses, that Rika trusts her like this, when Renamon knows she cannot return the trust. For while she understands that she will forever remain loyal to Rika, go to the ends of the earth and through the layers of Hell for her, for Rika...

It is a sad piety, indeed, for the fox knows her wisdom and her friendship are mere convenience for the girl.

She knows that Rika will never do the same.


End file.
